His Reprieve
by ViridianNight
Summary: In the future where captured slaves and slavery is completely normal, a young man named Arthur is taken from his home and family and sold on the slave market. The extremely wealthy entrepreneur, Mr. Jones, purchases him and Arthur's hell begins. The only flicker of light in this darkness is his growing relationship with Alfred, Mr. Jones's son. USUK/ M FOR A REASON
1. Dreaming of His Life

It was so warm and comfortable. Arthur opened his eyes and immediately shut them again. Golden sunlight shone through the open window, a rare occurrence in the United Kingdom. The gentle scent of the rose garden and delicious food drifted through. A light breeze ruffled the lacy curtains and flipped through the book that sat on Arthur's bedside table. The pale yellow walls was filled with framed pictures of his family and paintings from when Arthur was young. The Kirkland family wasn't rich, far from it, but they had a small and beautiful home in the countryside.

"Arthur! Arthur, wake up. Breakfast's ready!" a sweet voice said, along with the sound of sizzling bacon and toast popping up from the toaster.

Arthur pulled the covers over his head. He didn't want to get up yet. "Not yet sis, later."

She giggled and a gruff male voice with an edge of laughter said, "No stupid! Listen to Nealla. There is no later, get up now!"

"It's Isabelle, Scott. Not Nealla! Anyway, get up Arthur!"

"No..."

"What's happenin'?" a calm male voice asked.

"Hey Wallace, Artie won't get up."

"But big bro Artie has to get up!" a young boy cried. "It's momma's birthday!"

"See Artie? Even Peter wants ya to get up."

"I don't wanna..." Arthur whined.

"I don't give a fuck about what you want, little bitch. Get the fuck up!" Somebody slapped him hard.

Arthur woke up. And he was not in a warm, happy bed. Where was he?

He sat up and abruptly hit his head on something that made a very loud clanging sound.

"Well, dickhead? Get up!"

Oh.

He remembered now. He was in a cage. His sister wasn't laughing and cooking; Scott wasn't jokingly yelling and smoking 24/7; Wallace wasn't calm and collected, spewing out facts like a computer; and Peter wasn't happy-go-lucky and oblivious to everything. They were all enslaved, just like he was.

"I can't get up, bloody wanker. I would just hit my head wouldn't I?"

That earned Arthur another slap and then he was pulled out of his cage by his now dirty and matted hair.

Arthur gritted his teeth as the man roughly tied his wrists together with rope that dug into his flesh. A collar was buckled around his neck and attached to a heavy chain.

"Where's Peter?"

"Who?"

"Blond hair, blue eyes. He's ten."

"That little midget that looked like you? He was taken to a factory. No one wants a kid as a slave."

Arthur's anger flared. Peter was going to be a child laborer, abused and worked to the bone until he was eighteen. By then he would probably be dead or damaged beyond repair anyway.

"Wallace?" he asked. Even though he hated this man, he was his only source of information. "Reddish-brown hair, tall."

"Apparently he was smart enough to get bought as a tutor, he wouldn't have been strong enough for anything else anyway, little pussy."

Arthur's heart rose a bit. Finally Wallace's usually annoying intelligence was useful.

"And Isabelle?"

The man thought for a moment. "The hot redhead bitch captured with you?"

Arthur winced at his sister being called that. "Yes."

His captor cackled. "Me and the other dudes had fun with her. Oh, she was fucking tight too. Then she got sold as a sex slave. Whoever gets her is a lucky little bitch."

Arthur's anger exploded. "You... You bloody motherfuckers!" Arthur shouted. "Scott's gonna escape. And then he's gonna skin all of you alive 'til you beg for mercy, but he will torture and kill you all!" Arthur then tried to roundhouse kick his captor. Unfortunately, the man was almost twice his size and easily grabbed Arthur's leg.

"Little asshole!" he yelled and punched Arthur in the face.

"Hey!" another, well groomed man shouted. "Don't damage the merchandise."

Arthur clutched his now swollen cheek. "I'm not fucking merchandise to be sold."

The new man shrugged. "You are now."


	2. The Toys of the Rich and Famous

**Thanks for all the reviews, faves and followers!**

**Millie: random OC**

**Alice: Fem!England**

**Anya: Fem!Russia**

**Madeleine: Fem!Canada**

**Tina: Fem!Finland**

**Tori: Fem!Lithuania (even she doesn't exist...)**

**I tried to choose people that had something to do with Alfred in canon.**

* * *

Alfred tossed and turned in his bed. His usually soft and cool silk sheets were scratchy and uncomfortable. It was so hot. Why was it so bright? Wasn't it nighttime?

"Mr. Alfred."

Who was calling his name? Couldn't he sleep in peace? Stupid people!

"Mr. Alfred, get up please. Your father is awaiting you in the front hall."

Stupid father. "Can't he let me sleep? It's late, and who turned on the fucking light? !"

"Master Jones has an appointment today remember? And it's noon, not nighttime. There's no light, it's the sun."

Oh. That's what that was.

"Of course Millie. I was just joking," Alfred said, sitting up and running his fingers through his tousled hair.

His maid, Millie, stood at the foot of his bed holding a platter of food. "Shower and dress quickly, Mr. Alfred. You know your father is very impatient."

Alfred nodded, grabbed a small croissant and dashed to his bathroom while shoving the fluffy pastry into his mouth. He took off his pajamas, hopped into the shower, brushed his teeth and washed his face in just a few minutes.

"Ha! A new personal record!" Alfred shouted as he ran out of the bathroom, his wet hair dripping onto his t-shirt and almost tripping over his jeans which needed a belt.

Millie sighed and handed him a worn leather belt. "I still can't believe you keep track of your shower times."

"Of course! Everything in life is a race isn't it?" Alfred said, buckling the belt and throwing on a pair of red sneakers. "Okay, I have to go. Bye Millie!" He grabbed another croissant and waved bye to Millie.

XXX

"You're six minutes late," Mr. Henry Jones said coldly as Alfred skidded to a stop in the front hall.

"Yeah, sorry dad. I overslept."

"It's past lunchtime and you were still sleeping?"

"Uh, yeah, it's the weekend."

Mr. Jones shook his head disapprovingly. "That's no good. I expect you to be up at at least seven everyday. You need to study if you are to be as successful as me. Now let's go. We are already late."

Alfred shuffled along behind his father, glaring at his back. He hated his father. He was barely a father, cold and disapproving, harsh and demanding, and even plain sadistic at times.

They had gotten into their sleek black car when Alfred realized that he had no idea where they were going. "Dad, where are we going?"

"To the slave auction."

"What? !" Alfred exclaimed. "Why?" If he had known this, he would've never gotten into the car. The place disgusted him.

"Simple. We need another slave."

"B-But can't we just get a maid? Why a slave?"

"Maids are expensive and -"

"We have all the money in the world! We're the Jones family!"

"Don't interrupt. Also, all the maids nowadays are corrupted, evil and sneaky. Who knows what they'll steal or tell our secrets. Don't talk back Alfred."

Alfred continued on. "Well, what about Tori?" Tori was their previous slave, a cute sixteen year old whom Alfred had befriended.

"..." His father hesitated.

"Well?"

"She, unfortunately, was killed in an accident. Very tragic indeed."

"What? ! She's dead?" Alfred yelled. "When were you going to tell me this?"

"It seems that you didn't care enough about her to notice."

Alfred's anger rose quickly. "I cared about more than you ever did for anyone! Have you noticed that she's not the first slave we've had that has mysteriously died? Alice, Anya, Madeleine, Tina and now Tori? They've all died in an accident! I'm starting to think you killed-"

Mr. Jones slapped Alfred hard. "Alfred Jones, shut the fuck up or I'll throw you out of the car this instant."

Alfred was about to spew out a snappy retort, but then the car stopped in front of a clean, white building. This was the slave warehouse, where the rich and famous bought humans to use for their own purposes. Unknown to most passersby, in the back was a dirty, inhumane place where the newly captured slaves were held, beaten and raped.

Mr. Jones opened the door and walked up to the gilded front doors, with Alfred trudging along behind him.

"Ah, Mr. Jones, how nice to see you here again," the fat man at the door simpered. "Do you have your pass?"

"Of course." Mr. Jones whipped out a shiny red card, permitting him entrance to the exclusive auction held inside.

"Thank you, thank you," The fat man turned and looked at Alfred. "And this is?"

"My son, Alfred. He will be needing a card as well."

"Ah yes," the man said, shuffling through boxes of things underneath his desk. He pulled out a card identical to the one his father had. "I'll just need your thumbprint and signature here, Mr. Alfred."

Alfred reluctantly pressed his thumb onto the space indicated on the card and signed it.

"Thank you Mr. Alfred!" the man beamed at him and handed him his new card. "Enjoy the auction!"

Alfred and his father entered into the building. He immediately hated it, more than he ever had before because he was now one of _them_, one of the card-holders, one of those who played with the lives of innocent victims.


	3. Buyers and Sellers of Lives

**Thanks for all the reviews, faves and follows! Thank you so much for reading! :)**

* * *

Arthur was led by the well-groomed man through a hallway to what looked like the side of a stage. Arthur turned his head slightly to look into the audience. It was full of people of all ages, but all of them looked like rich, famous, greedy, evil douche-bags and bitches.

Yup, that pretty much summed it up.

Next to Arthur stood a boy who looked about twelve. He was shaking with fear. Arthur immediately felt that he should comfort him, hug him and rock him gently. He reminded Arthur of Peter.

"Hi there. What's your name?" Arthur asked the boy gently.

He turned to Arthur shyly. "I-I'm Raivis."

"Nice to meet you Raivis. I'm Arthur."

Raivis smiled a little. "Hi Arthur. How long have you been here?"

"I-" Arthur started when the announcer walked over and tugged Raivis out.

"You're up, kid."

Raivis was pulled away. While he was forced onto the stage, he looked back at Arthur, with desperation and hopelessness in his scared indigo eyes.

As soon as he stumbled onto the stage, the women in the audience started giggling and whispering like crazy.

"This is Raivis Galante, four foot five and fifteen years old."

He was fifteen? He was so small!

Immediately, the younger women giggled even more. Arthur had never been around many girls in his life, but none that giggled that much! Was this typical?

It was sick, watching the audience paying for such a small and weak little boy. The bidding went on for a while until a woman offered $4,000 for him.

"Going... going... gone! Sold to the young lady in the violet dress!"

Arthur peered out at the buyer. She was wearing violet but that was a dress? It looked like a shirt, a very low cut one covered in sparkles and sequins. Her eyes were covered by purple shades but she had a smug smile on her face. Raivis was led down to her where she replaced the metal chain with a sparkly leash and walked out of the auction house, with Raivis trailing behind her.

Arthur clenched his fists in anger. How could they sell humans like that? Like objects to be thrown away when they broke. And humans broke very easily.

The announcer glanced at the sheet of paper he had on his podium. "Let's see here... Next we have a girl, twenty-two years old. Bring her out please."

The next slave for auction was brought out, her head bowed and her fiery red curls dirty and limp.

It was Isabelle.

XXX

Alfred felt like he was gonna throw up, watching all the people, young girls and boys about his age, being sold like animals or even just objects. He hated it. On the other hand, his father was thoroughly enjoying the auction. He had been bidding halfheartedly for the past couple of hours, not caring if someone else outbid him.

Alfred watched the people being led on and off the stage. He felt sick, watching the fifteen year old boy who looked so young and vulnerable stumbling off and being led away by his new- Alfred shuddered at the thought- owner who looked so triumphant and smug.

Alfred barely listened as the announcer announced the next person. Alfred saw his father look up and pay more attention to the announcer and bidders around him. He glanced up and saw a young woman with scarlet hair and who was quite pretty, but she looked so defeated and hopeless. His father didn't intend to purchase this girl did he?

"3,000!"

"3,500!"

"4,000!"

"5,000!"

The bidding kept going up to when Alfred's father held up his number and said, "$8,000."

The hall was silent until someone ran on stage and screamed, "Isabelle!"


	4. How to Save a Life

**Thanks so much for all the follows, faves and reviews! Kind of a short chapter because I wanted to cut it off.**

* * *

"Isabelle!"

Arthur had struggled out of the ropes that bound his wrists together and ran out onto the stage, with no plan in mind. It was his sister, his family and perhaps the last person that he loved that he would ever see again. It didn't matter what consequences he would face later.

As soon as he appeared on stage, the audience immediately gasped and shouted at him while the people backstage yelled at each other and had a minute of disorganization before they charged out onto stage. Many of the people who rushed at him were unarmed and weak, so Arthur dodged their punches and kicks easily, while countering many of them. His old fighting skills learned in the grungy towns surrounding his home finally were useful.

Isabelle looked up when Arthur approached her, her green eyes fearful yet hopeful at the same time. "A-Artie! What are you doing?"

Arthur ran up to her and embraced her quickly. "Isabelle. Oh my god, we have to escape. We have to leave!"

"Artie, what have you done? You're going to get killed! Run, just leave me!" She shouted hysterically. "You're going to- Look out!"

The authorities who were actually trained in combat caught up to Arthur and pulled him away, holding his arms painfully behind him. Someone grabbed his hair and tilted his head back. He heard Isabelle scream. A gun was held to his forehead as he was forced to the side of the stage.

He was going to die.

Arthur scanned the audience desperately. There had to be someone out there with a good heart, willing to protest and save him from this imminent death. He met the fiery blue eyes of a young man with golden hair who then shouted something completely unbelievable.

XXX

Alfred heard the desperate cry for Isabelle, whom he guessed was the redhead slave onstage, and then a skinny young man with sandy hair run on stage. A group of angry authorities closely followed him, while the audience around him screamed and gasped in shock. A mad and violent mob gathered at the base of the stage and grabbed at the slave's feet. There were even a few who pulled out bejeweled knifes out of their blazers and jackets and tried to swipe at him.

Alfred was surprised just like everyone else but in a good way. He was glad that there was _someone_ with enough guts to run out and rebel against his captors like that. The slave hugged the girl and said something to her before she yelled a warning and the men descended onto him.

The slave easily deflected all their attacks but one eventually grabbed him, pinned his arms behind his back and pulled his head back.

Then a gun was put to his head.

"That son-of-a-bitch, rebelling and ruining this for us. He should be killed. No one would want him as a slave after this anyway," Mr. Jones said quietly to Alfred. He had been sitting there calmly the whole time, watching like it was a mildly interesting television show.

Alfred listened with outrage. How could his father think that lives could be thrown away so easily? Especially when it was an innocent person, fighting for his and his loved one's freedom?

He looked back up at the stage. The young man was looking around at the audience when he suddenly met Alfred's eyes. His eyes were bright green, glowing with a rebellious flame but still hiding a sliver of fear and desperation. They were scarred, yet powerful and hopeful, strong yet weak with the fear of death.

Alfred loved those eyes.

He grabbed the auction card from his father's hand when he wasn't paying attention and stood up.

"Alfred! What are you doing?" his father hissed. "Don't get involved. Sit back down!"

He ignored his father's commands. Alfred stuck his hand up, holding the number in his fist, a determined expression on his face. He hated this. But this was the only way to save him.

"$15,000! $15,000 for the man on stage!"

* * *

**Review!**


	5. The Purchase

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* * *

It seemed like time stopped at that moment. The mob froze, their weapons gripped loosely, some even clattered to the ground. All of them were looking behind them, wondering what had happened or if what they heard was real. Arthur's captors lowered the gun and loosened their grip on Arthur's arm. They stared incredulously at the man who yelled out his bid for Arthur. Arthur couldn't believe this was happening. Who would want to buy him? No one paid that much for a male slave, especially a skinny, weak one captured from the poor countrysides of Britain. Rarely any people paid that much even for a beautiful, virgin female slave.

Contrary to the angry and terrified faces of the audience, the announcer looked confused then extremely excited.

"$15,000 for this young man here!" he said, gesturing wildly at Arthur.

"Going..."

Silent.

"Going..."

Still silent.

"Gone!" he yelled ecstatically. "Sold to the man in the dark blue suit, Mr. Jones!"

XXX

"Sold to the man in the dark blue suit, Mr. Jones!"

Alfred let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. It was a horrible solution, but Alfred had saved someone from being killed.

His father sat there, and for the first time Alfred had seen in his life, he was speechless. Then his face contorted into anger. He looked like the devil. "What. The. Fuck. Alfred Jones. $15,000 for this weak boy? What the fuck did you think you were doing?"

"I was saving an innocent man from death," Alfred replied calmly, although inside, he was shaking with fear.

Mr. Jones raised his hand to hit Alfred but lowered it slowly. "I'll deal with you later. I can't ruin my reputation here."

Mr. Jones walked out quickly and Alfred followed him, hands in his pockets.

XXX

Arthur was brought around the stage to the warehouse in the back. A collar was buckled tightly around Arthur's neck, reminding him that he wasn't an individual anymore. He was a pet, a slave and destined to be that way forever. Arthur hoped that his owner would be one of the kind ones whom every slave dreamed of, but from the little that Arthur witnessed, Mr, Jones wasn't like that. The young man, whom Arthur assumed was his son, seemed alright but Arthur knew not to judge a book by its cover.

Surrounding Arthur were slaves in various stages of despair, some sobbing into their hands; some stoic, their faces stony; some were angry, fighting their bonds and the captors. Arthur was quite calm, surprisingly. He was knew that he was trapped. He would try and fight his way out later, at the opportune moment. [1]

Mr. Jones came around the corner with his hand clutching the young man's shoulder. He then glared at the young man and left, leaving him with Arthur. Arthur felt himself blushing slightly as he walked over. The man was- Arthur had to admit- very attractive. He gave off a warm and confident aura. He had tousled, honey-gold hair with an odd strand that stuck straight up. His skin was glowing tan and he had a slim build with muscles rippling beneath his t-shirt. His blazing cerulean eyes stared at him, and Arthur felt like they were staring right through his soul.

The young man walked over with a slightly guilty expression on his face.

"Uh, hi. I'm sorry I had to-" he winced. "Buy you. They would've killed you otherwise." He looked around, fidgeting a lot, like he was uncomfortable. He talked looking down at his feet. "I hate this place so much... it's disgusting, what they do to fellow humans... I hate that my father brings me here and treats you guys like objects, like trash." He looked back up suddenly. "Ah! I'm so impolite. You'd think I'd know better, growing up with that rich asshole as my father," he said with disgust. "I'm Alfred Jones. What's your name?"

Arthur was surprised that somebody would talk to him like this. He decided he liked Alfred, it was hard not too, even though he talked way too much. "I'm Arthur Kirkland. Nice to meet you."

* * *

**[1] Who knows what this line is from? One of my favorite movies ever!**


	6. Tears of the Good, Joy of the Bad

**Sorry for the wait! How was all your Thanksgivings? I went to Universal Studios and it was soooooooo amazing, OMG. If you like movies, you HAVE to go! I'm so thankful for all you guys who are faving, following, reviewing and reading this. I actually already had this chapter but I was away for Thanksgiving and all that, then I got really sick ugh. **

**Updates may be a bit slower now, because the other chapters were prewritten and I just had to edit them. This is my last chapter in store haha. Oh well, time to write more! Oh, and also, I'm trying to make the chapters a bit longer. I really have been working on my writing and putting more dialogue and emotion into my stories. Plus, I've been working a lot more on writing and revisiting my original stories. They are all planned out and just need to be written. Tell me if you would like to read them!**

**Lastly, just a personal thing, but there's a guy I really, really like and oh, the mixed signals galore! It sucks :(**

**So this is a really cheesy, not too useful, pretty stupid, OOC chapter, but I kinda like how it turned out.**

* * *

Mr. Jones came back, grumbling to himself. $15,000 for a weakling, male slave? His son was a fucking idiot, obsessed about justice, equality and being a hero. He needed to learn that money made you powerful, and that power was all you had and need in the world. There is no justice, no superhero to save the world.

He turned the corner and saw Alfred chatting happily with the slave.

So, Alfred had already grown fond of this new slave? He was always so quickly attached to things, whether it be a person or a favorite video game.

That made the things always so much more fun to break.

XXX

"Hello Mr. Jones."

Mr. Jones turned to see the tall salesman walked over to him.

"Ah, Robert, hello. Nice to see you again."

"Nice to see you too. So, happy with your purchase?"

Mr. Jones scoffed. "Happy with that thing? Definitely not, Robert. What can he do? He's not strong, he's not especially attractive, he's useless."

Robert shrugged. "He sure has some fire in him. He's a good one, I can tell."

"...That he does."

"You like the ones with some fire don't you?"

Mr. Jones grinned. "You know me too well Robert."

Robert laughed. "I do, don't I? Well, you'll have fun with this one."

Mr. Jones looked back at the slave. Maybe it was a good thing his idiotic son bought him after all. "Hm... perhaps I will... Perhaps I will, Robert."

XXX

"So, where are you from?"

Arthur was surprised that he and Alfred were making decent conversation, especially with the huge gap in social classes between them, plus the fact that he was American. "I'm from Britain."

"What? Oh my gosh, really?" he said, his eyes shining with a childlike excitement. "I've always wanted to go! Go on London Eye and see the palace and the crowns! What are they like? And the Olympic stadium and park! I love the Olympics! I always wanted to go! But my dad never takes me..." He trailed off. "I heard that the food isn't that good though."

Arthur chuckled at his excitement and his curiosity. "London is wonderful. I didn't live there, I lived more in the countryside but I loved the city. It's always rainy there though, but I love it."

Alfred wrinkled his nose. "Rain? I guess rain is alright, but when it's rainy I like staying inside where it's warm. I like being warm. What about the food?"

"Do you only care about food?"

"Uh... no! Of course not..."

Arthur laughed. "The food isn't bad, at least I think so. Some people will disagree. Those bloody gits," he muttered. "I love cooking though, I'll cook for you sometime."

"Really?" Alfred said happily. "That'd be awesome!"

Arthur smiled. "Sure. The best food though, is the food that Isabelle makes..." He came a sudden realization, that Isabelle would never cook for their family again. Scott would never smoke and dance around drunk again. Wallace wouldn't correct everyone's vocabulary and grammar again. Peter would try to run away and laugh when he was caught again.

"A-Arthur... what's wrong? You're crying..."

Arthur touched his face. Sure enough, streams of tears ran down his face.

"Oh."

He thought of Peter, Wallace, even Scott, whom he hated. He would never see them again, ever again. "Oh," he whispered again and suddenly, to his embarrassment, started sobbing, burying his face in his hands. Oh God, he was so weak, to just burst into tears like this.

XXX

Arthur was talking happily about food in England, but when he mentioned Isabelle, he started crying. When Alfred asked him what was wrong, he completely broke down. Oh crap, Alfred couldn't stand people crying.

"A-Ah... Artie... don't cry," Alfred whispered, holding his cold hands. "Don't cry Artie... I hate it when people cry, b-but if you need to, I'm here for ya, 'kay?"

Arthur nodded, unable to stop his tears.

"I-Is Isabelle that redhead girl? Is she your... girlfriend?"

"N-No, my sister," Arthur hiccuped.

"Do... do you have other siblings too?"

Arthur wiped his eyes. "Yeah."

"C-Could you tell me about them?" Alfred asked gently, trying to cheer up Arthur. Maybe talking about his family would make him feel better?

"...Maybe some other time? I-I don't think I could right now..."

Alfred pulled back slightly. That was a dumb move. "O-Oh, of course. Sorry for asking, that was stupid of me."

"No, it's alright," Arthur sniffed, taking his hand away from Alfred's and wiping it across his eyes. His confident and strong persona had completely melted away. "I'm sorry, I just... I'm a terrible person, I couldn't even save Isabelle. I couldn't protect her and everyone else is gone and I won't ever see them again and it's all because I was too weak to stop them from taking us! I'm such a failure, I can't even do that one thing right so I —"

Alfred shushed him. "Arthur, you aren't terrible. Running onto the stage like that took real courage. You couldn't have stopped them, nobody can stop them, they're horrible, horrible people. And don't worry 'bout Isabelle. I'm the heir of the wealthiest family in the world and, if you haven't noticed already, I'm a fuckin' hero. I will get her back, 'kay?"

"B-But we don't know who has her..."

"There are ways to track that."

"R-Really?" Arthur asked, looking up at Alfred. Alfred felt his heart skip a beat. Those beautiful green eyes were looking at him with such hope and happiness, masked by a layer of tears. His pale eyelashes were coated with diamond like tears. His eyes were mesmerizing.

"Yeah, definitely." Alfred said quietly.

"Alfred. What are you doing?"

Both Alfred and Arthur looked up. It was Mr. Jones, in his imposing suit holding his phone and glaring at the two.

"Alfred, stop talking with the slave. And why in hell are you —" Mr. Jones had a look of disgust on his face. "—even touching him Alfred. Have some standards. Get up. The men here will load him for us. Get in the car."

"But I-" Alfred started, still holding Arthur.

"Don't argue. Get in the car," his father repeated.

Alfred glanced desperately back at Arthur before he was pulled away by his father's bodyguards.

Arthur was taken away in the other direction, where they pulled him roughly toward a running black car, almost choking him. His wrists and ankles shackled much too tightly and a piece of rough cloth tied over his eyes. He then was pushed into the car and he felt the car start moving, driving him away to his new, unpredictable life.


End file.
